


don't worry about a thing

by soulofme



Series: we’re living in the moment [3]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, Pining Connie Springer, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 07:44:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12979344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulofme/pseuds/soulofme
Summary: it's a sad story. (i'm all out of luck.)





	don't worry about a thing

“Which one?”

Connie looks between the two offered blankets. Light pink and light pink. One has a fluffy horse stitched on the corner. The other is trimmed with lace. They’re pretty, in a way. He never thought he’d live to see the day where blankets became _pretty_.

“The pink one’s okay.”

Sasha holds them away from her face before she scowls. “Asshole.”

Connie tries not to flinch, even as Sasha laughs far too bright and far too loud.

“You think she’ll like them?” Sasha continues, dropping the blankets into the shopping cart. She smoothes a hand over the round curve of her belly and frowns. “Like, seriously. What if she hates pink?”

“She’ll like whatever you give her,” Connie says. “She’s _your_ kid after all.”

“Right,” Sasha says, hand still placed delicately over her stomach. “Mine.”

Connie’s not sure why there’s a bitter taste on the back of his tongue now. He swallows past it. Winces, because that seems to make it worse. He turns his attention to the row of little plush animals, lions and bears and God knows what. They’re infuriatingly cute. All of this is infuriating, really, but Sasha needs a friend. Support. Someone to go baby shopping with and to rub her swollen ankles and help her pick out names. Connie will do it all, damn it. Even if he kills him a little bit each day.

“My mom thinks I’m too young to have this kid,” Sasha says. She’s absently thumbing through a rack of little onesies.

“Do you think you’re too young?” Connie asks, ignoring the shocked look Sasha gives him.

“No,” she says. Sounds like she means it. She grabs a panda onesie and tosses it into the cart. “I’m pushing thirty. I can handle this.”

“Alone?” Connie asks before he can stop himself. Sasha really stops then, one hand braced on her back and a completely pissed expression on her face.

“You don’t think I can do it.”

“I didn’t say that!” Connie insists. High and panicked. Sasha looks strangely satisfied about it. “I’m just worried you’re spreading yourself too thin.”

“I chose this,” Sasha reminds him gently. She grabs a soft, brown teddy bear from the shelf beside her and regards it carefully. “Besides, it’s not even that bad. I’m twenty nine. I’ve got a steady job and my own place. Motherhood will be a breeze compared to what I’ve been through.”

Connie swallows hard at that. Sasha’s ex. A real dickhead, but he came around eventually. They’re going to try to co-parent. Connie doesn’t get why he wants to try to be a good guy _now_ , but Sasha already agreed to it. Connie doesn’t have much of a choice.

“Right,” Connie says softly. Sasha curls her hands around the cart’s handle and smiles reassuringly at him.

“I know you’re worried,” she says, her eyes soft. Connie averts his eyes and focuses on the window instead. Outside, people shuffle to and fro like ants. It’s a welcome distraction from the abundance of fluffy pink shit around him. “But really, I’ve got this. And I’ve got you, right?”

Connie looks back at her then, at the long, dark cardigan she’s wrapped herself in. Her soft eyes and softer hair, her round cheeks and round belly. Sasha and Not Sasha. The same and different. His best friend and the first girl he ever thought he loved.

“Of course,” Connie says, reaching towards her for their handshake. A tiny distant part of his brain wonders if she forgot all about it, left it behind her in high school, but then Sasha grabs his hand and everything falls into place. Things aren’t _that_ different, then.

“Hey,” Sasha whispers then, leaning towards him like she’s telling him a secret. “You’re my best friend. Always.”

“Always,” Connie says.

 It sounds permanent. Maybe not permanent in the _I love you and I always have_ sort of way, but definitely in the _I’ll always be around, as long as you’ll have me_ sort of way.

Connie will take what he can get. He’ll take the pink and pinker blankets, the stuffed animals, the dickhead ex who wants to act like a dad. He’ll take whatever the hell Sasha decides to throw at him, anything at fucking all, because he doesn’t want to give this up. Give _her_ up.

“Hey,” he says, jerking his chin towards the registers. “Let’s go pay for this. You up for ice cream?”

“God, Connie,” Sasha says, laughing breathlessly. “You’re literally perfect, you know that?”

“Sure,” Connie says, even as he thinks that there’s no one more perfect than Sasha. “C’mon. Let’s go.”


End file.
